


You Don't Need to Cry Anymore

by Milktofu



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, doting Kiseki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milktofu/pseuds/Milktofu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An incident on the court leaves Kuroko with permanent emotional and physical damage. Murasakibara's not empathetic-let alone sympathetic-enough to comfort him. A slow take on their progressing relationship; Kuroko learns to face reality and Murasakibara learns how to properly interact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Need to Cry Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a few months ago during my pre-finals stupor...
> 
> Kuroko no Basuke (c) Fujimaki

The sound of basketball shoes squeaking, rubbing against polished wood floors resounded in his ears as Izuki made a last minute pass in his direction. Catching it proved little to no difficulty for him, but dribbling it down the court with several, larger opposing players chasing after him for possession of the ball became a different concern. His eyes, frantic and wide, scanned the court in hopes of seeing someone to pass the ball to but to no avail. Kagami was being marked by two players, Hyuuga was being marked by the captain, Mitobe had his hands full with the team's power forward, and Izuki was too far from his position.

There was no one to pass to, and the possibilities of making a shot himself with such little time frame was nearly impossible.

But there was still a chance.

Immediately taking his stand, Kuroko held the ball at an appropriate distance to launch, retracting an arm back ready to shoot the ball in the air like a pinball machine.

"Ichihara!! Don't let him shoot!" He heard the deep, baritone voice of the captain shout from his spot right outside the three-point line.

Ichihara, the opposing team's center responsible for defending the hoop, ran back to his spot within the three-point line, prepared to knock the ball out of the way from the hoop.

It was the final quarter of the game. Both sides were insanely exhausted but fought on to their last muscles. Seirin may have been the Winter Cup champions, but a team like Hatoya Gakuen was still a challenge they were willing to meet head on. And they were indeed a challenge. The constant playing resulted in sweat. Sweat that fell freely to the ground. While basketball shoes had enough traction, it was no enough to resist the puddle of sweat right below Ichihara's shoes.

Everything happened far too quickly. The screams from the sidelines and the gasps and silence follows by the crowd could no conceal the bloodcurdling shout from Kuroko's mouth.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

"Oh my god!! There's blood!"

"Kuroko!"

* * *

 

He awoke to white in his vision and a dull, numb ache all over his body to compliment it. His throat was dry, vision blurry, a ringing in his ear.

"-etsuya... I'm so relieved, you're awake." The choked, muffled sobs of a familiar figure registered in his mind. The tender brush of delicate fingers brushed his potentially bruised cheek down his jawline to his neck. Once his vision focused better, he could make out pale blue hair and small lines along the sides of his mother's mouth.

He could not give her a verbal response. It hurt too much.

The smell of fresh croquettes and home granted him the knowledge that his grandmother was there. Upon that realization, he felt the light pressure on his unbandaged hand increase by a smidgen, as if his grandmother read his mind and assured his wordlessly that "yes, I am here."

"Your father left to retrieve some supplies for you." His mother commented, brushing the backs of her fingers along his hair, as if the contact was to assure her, more than him, that he was there and okay.

In the wake of his fatigue and weariness, Tetsuya returned to his peaceful, undisturbed slumber.

* * *

 

Only four days have passed in the hospital and Akashi has miraculously convinced his parents that he will the under their—the miracles—care. Admittingly, they had put up a good fight, but it was Akashi and he would always gain favourable results.

(In his favour, of course.)

On the first day of their visit during a time Kuroko was not sedated into sleep, everyone behaved out of character.

Kise kept calm, oddly enough. He still chattered on and on but his tone was softer and he spoke with care at Kuroko.

Aomine talked as well but he mostly commented on Kise's words. They were taunts and such, but there was no bite behind them as per usual. He and Kise sat on both sides at the end of Kuroko's bed.

Momoi engaged the two in conversation, often having to play the middleman or referee when things began to get a little rowdy. She sat by his side while clutching at Kuroko's hand, rubbing little circles at it with the pad of her thumb.

Midorima sat to himself on the chair by Kuroko's bedside, against the wall, reading a novel. All of his visits consisted of him bringing  several novels and reading through them, putting them in one of two piles he arranged in the bedside table not occupied with gifts and food. According to Aomine, he was sorting through books he felt Kuroko would enjoy and kept them there for him later on. He'd later deny it to hell and back.

Akashi sat by the windowsill, keeping idle with his personal shoji board before him whilst playing against himself because everyone had occupied their attention with something or someone.

Except Murasakibara, that is. The tallest man child of the room sat in the darker corner of the room, furthest from the bed with only one bag of chips in his lap. His usual loud munching was substituted by the soft, quiet nibbles, his mind focused on something internal.

There were two separate things he noticed among his middle school friends.

One, the group would rotate to stay the night to care for Kuroko. Not that he asked for much; his body rejected the prospect of speaking. They would dote on him, mind him, tend his basic needs, wash his face and limbs, everything he needed. They would never entertain conversation for the night once everyone else left. Aomine brought magazines—not the gravure type, Akashi would have confiscated them if the nurses have not—and show a page that he believed Kuroko would enjoy. Kise spent his spare time tending to his beauty supplies and use the facilities to do his nightly routine. Momoi would do the basic female needs and hold Kuroko's hand throughout the night until she slept soundly in the chair by his bedside. Akashi and Midorima read until Kuroko slept. Murasakibara spent his time in the corner, far from the bed Kuroko resided in.

Second, he noticed that they would never speak about basketball. When Kise and Aomine spoke, it was almost entirely about girls, Kise's modelling career, Aomine's latest conquest in the mountains, and Akashi's origins—hell. The magazines Aomine brought in had a fresh, newly packaged scent, as if he had bought them before heading to the hospital, and the subject of those magazines were manga, entertainment, or lingerie.

(Hey, he had to make due with the inability to bring porn, okay?)

The air surrounding them became eerie and as the forward duo began to run out of topics besides basketball to talk about, it grew awkward and they would lapse into silence more easily. Especially with Kuroko's recently acquired mutism.

Seirin had visited one day.

* * *

 

Riko offered her honey-soaked lemon to him, upon hearing that he could finally eat solid foods, but Tsuchida and Izuki had rushed her out before any damage could be done. Kiyoshi approached his bed and patted his head with palms the size of continents, but his pressure was gentle and assuring. Hyuuga offered him the flowers, courtesy of the team, while averting his eyes. The hesitation in his voice displayed his unease.

Kagami gave his concern, but was coerced into a one-sided conversation with Kise almost immediately. The freshmen trio had snuck Nigou in and the pooch whimpered at his master's side. Kuroko had offered his smaller partner a small smile in return. Mitobe and Koganei had brought him an edible meal with the latter enthusiastically, but carefully, feeding him.

“Kuroko-kun. Just remember, we're here for you, alright?” Riko would offer her words of encouragement when Tsuchida and Izuki deemed it safe for her to approach him. Everyone present nodded in agreement after she had uttered those words.

“Ah, that's right. You can always sit alongside some of us during games! We won't let you quit because of your inj—“ Before Kagami could continue his words of encouragement, Aomine had kicked him on the back with enough force to knock him on the ground.

From the look on Kuroko's face, it seemed he was ignorant to the truth.

* * *

 

“The incident at the game left you with a severely fractured pelvis. When Ichihara had slipped and rammed into you, your body was crushed between his and the beam supporting the hoop. Your body was already really fragile to begin with, and Ichihara himself was estimated to be, at the very least, ninety-one kilograms.”

“Even if you were to play, you'd only worsen your condition.”

“Kuroko. Kiyoshi's knee is no where near as severe as your pelvis. Your left shoulder has been fractured as well and your retained a concussion.”

“Your calves have been weakened by a substantial amount. Any sport will put too much stress on to your body.”

At some point, his breathing halted and suddenly the world blurred together. He maintained consciousness but there was a ringing in his ear. Every words coming out of everyone's mouth slurred and was muted out by the ringing that grew louder and louder with every second that passed.

There was silence, and then there was laughter. Kuroko was laughing. Hysterically. His eyes wide with fear and disbelief as he clutched at his bed sheets, his grip causing his knuckles to turn white. Everyone stared with concern at him. He laughed while turning to everyone, looking at every individual in the eyes. There were tears prickling at the edge of his eyes, some threatening to fall and stream down his face.

Never in his life had he felt such strong emotions, not even the day Teiko had crushed Ogiwara's school and devestated his friend. He had faith, after the fact, that ogiwara would have recovered and it slowly put his mind at ease, especially during Winter Cup when his team presented a wristband for his match.

Now, things were different. The phantom player was no more.

* * *

 

“Kuro-chin. Here.” Murasakibara held out an apple peeled and cut into the shape of a bunny before Kuroko's mouth. The bedridden boy stared at the apple with an empty stare, devoid of emotion. Murasakibara persisted and continued to push the apple towards Kuroko's mouth. “Geez. Open up already.” He grunted irritably. Kuroko turned, took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and turned to face the window. “That's so cliché, Kuro-chin.” Murasakibara mumbled. Satisfied with just a bite, he stood from his spot in the chair and made his way to the couch, which doubled as his bed for the night.

The taller male dug through his bag and pulled out a bag of chips and a light novel. He set the chips to his left and the novel in his right hand held at an ideal distance. In the midst of reading, his mind wandered to the orders he was specifically told by Akashi.

"Atsushi." He had called out to him. Murasakibara turned to face his former captain, mindful to not look down on him.

"Hmm?"

"You are going to monitor Tetsuya this upcoming weekend."

"Yes~ and?"

In the small second, he saw that Akashi's mismatched slitted eyes had narrowed by a margin. "I am aware that you lack a filter, especially regarding basketball, and how you detest his mindset on it. You have a tendency to provoke Tetsuya and antagonize his beliefs about basketball." Now, it was Muraskibara's turn to grow irritated. "As you know, Tetsuya is physically unable to play. I expect you to refrain from mentioning basketball, much less slip into your poor habit of engaging him in another argument. Do you understand, Atsushi?"

The very memory irked him to the point of angrily chomping on his chips out loud. Stupid Aka-chin.

His loud crunching came to a halt when he felt the atmosphere around him change. There was a slight constricting on his chest that he could not pinpoint the cause of, his breath quickened bit by bit, and he felt something strange, a pleasant discomfort. Murasakibara mindlessly set his eyes on his novel without actually reading the text, trying to identify the source of the strange feeling he was feeling. As he searched his mind, he thought of nothing, and concluded that it must have been his surroundings. He dropped a chip he held close to his mouth and averted his eyes to his right. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Kuroko's body had shifted from it's original position. The smaller of the two now had his body turned slightly towards him but more forward and his hands folded neatly on his lap. Murasakibara's hair obstructed his view from Kuroko's face and rather than tucking it behind his ear, he assumed that Kruoko was looking in his direction.

To test a theory, he decided to tuck his book away in his overnight bag and pull out a game portable game console. It only took a few minutes before the growing discomfort from earlier immediately went away. He snuck a peek from the corner of his eye and saw that Kuroko's body was mostly facing the window once again, but his hands were still folded firm on his lap.

“Kuro-chin, you can always read the books Mido-chin approved for you.” Murasakibara remarked out loud. He had not turned to face Kuroko, but opted to glance at his body language from the corner of his eye. The slight twitch of his fingers indicated that he had been surprised to be called out so abruptly, the small lean forward displayed his uneasiness towards being caught, and the shift of blankets showed his interest in retorting but the hesitation held him back.

When he received no answer, Murasakibara caved and rose his head to look at Kuroko. As opposed to the stare down he anticipated between him and Kuroko, the latter's eyes were staring at his lap, lost to the surrounding world.

“Tch. Whatever.”

* * *

 

The next night it was Murasakibara's turn to take care of Kuroko, Himuro opted to tag along and gauge how his former opponent was doing. He was poorly briefed on the situation concerning Kuroko courtesy of Kagami with corrections from Riko.

“How are you feeling, Kuroko-kun?” Himuro approached the aforementioned patient with a small smile. Kuroko looked up at the shooting guard and returned the small smile with one of his own. “That's good.” He rested his hand on top of Kuroko's head and gently pet it in an endearing manner, in which Kuroko gratefully accepted it.

Bright, azure eyes motion upwards to glance at the ring proudly hanging off the chain wrapped around the elder's neck. Memories of stories about promises and brotherhood flashed within his mind and shortly afterwards he recalled fistbumps and teammates holding him up after he collapsed. Kuroko stared down at his bandaged wrists and at his hands. There was a tight, empty feeling welling up in his chest with hopelessness and the reality of his situation flooding his mind.

“-uroko-kun? Kuroko-kun! Are you alright? Does it hurt somewhere?” Himuro called out in panic. Murasakibara stood behind him with wide, terrified eyes as his arms dropped the bag of chips to reach out and prepare to tend to any of Kuroko's needs if need be. Before Himuro was able to reach out and call for a nurse in response to Kuroko's sudden burst of tears, he heard a small muttering.

“It's not fair...”

“Huh?”

“It's... just not fair.”

“What do you mean, Kuroko-kun?” Himuro approached him cautiously like a wild animal prepared to lose control.

“All of you...” Kuroko stuttered, looking up at Himuro and Murasakibara and felt his heart clenched further. “Have a chance.”

Murasakibara and Himuro standing there before him were prime examples of his struggles. The Murasakibara with the natural talent and resources to play basketball. The capability and body to overcome his challenges and succeed without any effort. Then there was Himuro. He was skilled and perfectly capable, but he was not naturally talented like the Miracles. He worked hard to reach his goals and he continues to do such. He is able do continue.

Kuroko, however, could not.

“I can't... go on playing basketball anymore...” It was unfair. Against his own free will, he had to give up the game he worked so hard to achieve. He finally had a team—a family—to call his own and friends to lean back on and look after. Why, after all this time, did he have to bear the emotional weight of losing everything he wanted when it was finally in his grasp?

There was gripping at the top of his head.

“Kuro-chin, quit it. Your crying face is unbearable. Makes me mad.”

“Atsushi, stop that!”

“You wouldn't understand, Murasakibara-kun.”

“I don't need to. You were already bad at basketball so, why are you getting so upset? Geez.”

“Not everybody can be as naturally talented as you! Not everyone can have natural born abilities!” The tears freely flowed from Kuroko's eyes as his voice elevated into a croaky yell. “You can continue to play, at least. I'm stuck here with only memories of those days. I can't play anymore...” After voicing the painful reality, the air surrounding the three teens grew tense and unbearable. Kuroko lapsed back into silence after his outburst and Himuro could no longer take it. He grabbed Murasakibara by the wrist and forcefully dragged him out into the mostly vacant hallway.

Immediately after Himuro released Murasakibara's arm, he threw a punch at his face yet again, but this time with more force than ever. Before nurses could respond, or even call security, he shouted at the taller male now sitting on the ground clutching at his bruising cheek.

“How could you say something like that to him! It was one thing when you pissed me off that day at the Winter Cup against Seirin, but this is out of the line, even for you, Atsushi...” In that momentary pause, he took a second to compose himself and mumble something under his breath in English. “What if you were in his place, Atsushi.” It was hardly a question Murasakibara was in any place to answer

* * *

 

After Akashi got word of the conflict between Kuroko and Murasakibara, he demanded that Murasakibara spend as much time as he could to take care of Kuroko. Himuro happily obliged to bring him his schoolwork and get permission from Coach Araki to miss practice, but she threatened him to “hurry the hell up before she trains his ass into the ground.”

It was another awkward night in the hospital for the caretaker and the patient. The occasional nurse would come in to take his temperature, pulse, and blood work, but leave in a cordial manner. There was otherwise no conversation between the pair, not that Kuroko talked much—or at all—after the incident.


End file.
